Thursday, December 13, 2001

Nothing better than going out for a holiday lunch with clients and realizing that four hours and more than a couple of beers have passed. Then head out to get your kids from their after school program where you get to help them finish building graham cracker gingerbread houses. Racing home to see how the little guy with the ear infection is doing. Then discover that one of your favorite babysitters has worn a napkin thin sweater as her only protection from the now twenty-eight degree weather. Quickly drive her home and panic on the way back because you can’t be sure if you were told to actually buy the ingredients for a spaghetti dinner or just fix it. The two minute round trip to drive a block and a half has turned into a mental hour so back into the house fully prepared to pack everyone up for a trip to the store. Thankfully, your loving wife has provided for your complete lack of preparation and its time to start cooking. Get dinner finished and start the nightly house clean. Just about the time you’re getting the dishwasher ready your eldest daughter is crying for you in the bathroom because she has just filled the sink with her stomach contents. Help her finish vomiting while you distract the gapers by sending them for things you don’t need. Clean her up and make her a sickbed on the couch because it is Survivor night after all. Back into the bathroom to move the chunks of food that wouldn’t go down the sink drain by hand into the toilet. (luckily I have absolutely no problems with puke) gather up her cloths, your clothes, the bathroom rug and towels for decontamination. Find a clean load in the washer so wash your hands and arms, move everything into the dryer, pick up the hazardous material and set the washer to boil. Run back upstairs to stop the fight over who can make big sister feel better by hugging her. This is a gigantic puke-o-rama risk so everyone has to stop because its time to get ready for bed. Jammies on, faces washed, (can’t risk a bath tonight) teeth brushed, lights off and everyone that feels up to it sits in your chair for the show. The sick couch requests a piece of dry toast to fill the gap so it turns into toast all around then back for another run at the teeth. 7:30 and Max climbs into his own crib. Back for the second half of a show that has you’re your interest but the girls like it and its not about the show. You have your standard review and speculation during tuck in and its back to finish the cleaning. Sitting downto do the one thing that seems to relax you and you wonder how bad that laundry is going to smell if you don’t wash it again or at least put it in the dryer with a handful of those stinky sheets. Back to this and you realize that your connection doesn’t stay active long enough to complete the blogging process. Too late for anything fancy, K.I.S.S. 12:00:00 AM    says you